We've Met Before
by PhantomSilverCrystal
Summary: [Once A Ranger] Is it possible for friendships to last lifetimes? To transcend time or memory? Bridge and Kira's paths have crossed long before they team up, but they may never know how intertwined their lives have been.
1. Once a Ranger

**A.N.: This is an idea that came to me while watching the SPD/Dino Thunder crossover episodes (there were two, if you didn't know...). That means that Bridge and Kira met twice before _Once a Ranger _but because their memories were wiped, they don't remember at all, and for some reason, that makes me really sad. I imagine they would make good friends, though, so this is me, giving them a chance at friendship.**

* * *

**Hartford Manor, San Angeles, California (2007)**

Bridge Carson stared at the ceiling, blinking only when absolutely necessary. This time and place, this speck of dust in the universe, this moment in distant history, it was all so strange to him. It was hard to imagine that he was here, and that he would have to go back. Would he be permitted to remember this time? Dr. Manx had once let it slip to him that he'd been around this time before, even though it had risked the natural progression of time. Really, it was a wonder that the Sentential Knight had chosen him at all, considering that at this exact moment, he was in two places at once. Somewhere in what would soon be Newteche City, there was a three year old him, tucked in soundly, dreaming of becoming a power ranger.

It was so dark in this room; there were no windows in this ranger team's base. The darkness reminded him of his dorm back home. The air mattress was, however, a step down from his once-regulation bunk. In the years since he had first moved into that dorm, he'd altered, adjusted and tricked that bad boy out until it was the epitome of comfort. Shifting slightly in his sleeping bag that rustled against the plastic mattress, he decided this was less than comfortable.

He'd be home soon enough, he reminded himself. Two more days, tops. That was the way it always worked with this kind of mission: go back in time, work quickly, save the world, get home. Memory wipe: optional.

Bridge smiled, thinking of what was waiting for him in the future—or was it the present? It was his present. This was the past. Although, now certainly felt like the present. To someone on some other time line, this was the future, though. Time travel hurt his head. He gave it thought and came to the conclusion that time didn't really matter. Not to him. He just wanted to return to the time and place where his friends were, where he had finally made a name for himself. Satisfied, he sighed deeply.

"Bridge?" A whisper cut through his thoughts. Was it a ghost? It almost sounded like Syd… But Syd was in the future (present? home?) so it couldn't be her. Perhaps he'd only imagined it. He closed his eyes, and tried to forget about it. "Are you awake?" No, it was definitely real, and it definitely wanted to talk to him.

"Yes?" He hesitantly answered, only slightly confused. "Yes, I am. May I ask who's calling?" The voice giggled. In the dark, he caught the peripheral outline of a body sitting up. An air mattress across the room scuffed against the tile.

"I'm coming over there." He sat up in response. Peeling the leather glove off of his right hand, he felt for an aura. Yellow waves hit him like a tsunami. He had never felt such a strong wave of energy all at once, or at least he couldn't think of a time when he had. Quickly, he fastened the glove back on. It was almost painful, having such pure energy radiating through his skin, pulsating like earthquakes through his senses.

"Good morrow, Kira," Bridge greeted her with overenthusiastic formality in a whisper as she padded her way between the others' makeshift beds. She reached his and hesitated only a second before sitting on the opposite end. Folding her left leg under her right, she cocked her head slightly.

"Is it morning, already?" She asked.

"I think so," He answered, reaching to the pile of his clothes, folded neatly beside him, he dug up his watch from the pocket of his uniform. Pressing a button on the side of the face, a dimly lit hologram informed them that it was 2:16 in the morning.

"I guess it is." Kira shrugged. As he tossed his timepiece back onto the pile, she couldn't help but notice how well it suited him. It was odd, but somehow still classy. "Great watch, by the way."

"Thanks," He said, trying to remember when or where he'd gotten it. The hands were a bright green, so he could only assume it was from his rookie days. "I've had it… a while."

"I'm not keeping you up, am I? I hope I didn't wake you…"

It was Bridge's turn to shrug. He ran a hand through his bed-head and answered, "I was up, and I don't know that I was getting to sleep anytime soon. Was there some particular reason you wanted to talk to me? Not that I don't enjoy your company… Well actually, I don't know whether I enjoy your company or not. I haven't really made that decision yet." He caught himself before his entire foot was in his mouth. "No offense intended."

"None taken," She laughed quietly, trying not to wake anyone else up. "I don't actually know why I came over here. I couldn't sleep and when I heard you stir, I thought maybe…" Her voice trailed off. She didn't know how to explain what it was, but she knew that talking to Bridge was like living in a dream, and she couldn't help but be completely honest with him. "I think I like talking to you, is all. It gives me this… feeling."

"Feelings are actually your brain's reaction to changes in heart rate." He recited a line he'd read in a medical journal at the age of nineteen. No, wait. In the library… Librarian with the chains on her glasses… Syd was there. Sky was not. He was eighteen when he read that. "Typical feelings of anxiety or fear tend to accompany a quickening heart rate, while disappointment and relaxation are generally coupled with a slowing heart rate."

"I don't think it's one of those feelings," She said slowly, dissecting his words. Kira couldn't be sure, she hadn't known Bridge for more than a few hours, but it sounded to her like he thought she was hitting on him. She tried to correct that sentiment. "More like… nostalgia? Like we've had conversations before. But that's impossible, isn't it? We just met today, or yesterday, rather, seeing as its morning."

"Actually, in Portuguese, there is a word for that: saudade. I hope I'm pronouncing that correctly, I've only ever read it before… Anyway, it refers to a mild nostalgia or deep longing for something that either hasn't happened yet or possibly happened in another life." Pausing, he scanned his memory. There was something else. Squinting in concentration, he began to speak again. "I think the most literal English translation is something along the lines of 'a residual love' or 'the recollection of feelings'. It's kind of similar to déjà vu, which, of course, is French for 'what has been seen before'."

"Wow," Kira breathed, letting his words resonate with her. He had so much knowledge that it almost scared her. Was there anything he didn't remember? Anything he hadn't read? "You speak all those languages?"

"Yes." He said bluntly. "I speak every language known to man, extraterrestrial, and most varieties of dolphin."

Kira fell silent. For a moment, she couldn't tell if he was insane or simply brilliant. As she pondered, he suddenly let out a laugh, soft and sweet, that let her in on his joke.

"I'm sorry," Bridge gasped between muffled bursts of laughter. "Dolphins… You totally believed me!"

She blushed only slightly before joining his laughter. He was right. It was pretty funny. "Was I not supposed to believe you?" She reached over his sleeping bag and shoved his shoulder. "Did I have any reason not to? It's not like I've ever _been_ to the future before, you know. For all I know, the dolphins are all scholars there!"

"You're right, you're right," He admitted, catching his breath. "I'm honestly sorry. I took advantage of your past-liness."

"That's right, you're sorry!" Kira joked. "In my day, we respected our elders, young man."

"We are in your day!"

"I suppose we are, aren't we?" She smiled, silently trying to do the math. "I'm twenty, now… How old does that make you?"

"Well, I was born in 2004," He answered. "So, little Bridgey is almost four. I had hoped while I was here that I might meet myself so then I could be friends with little me. The only problem is… what if I end up not liking myself? That could be a total bummer."

"That's not what I meant," Kira explained. "How old are you… were you… will you be, I guess, when you leave to come to this time?"

"Oh, twenty-four," He nodded. A smile sprawled across his face, as he realized what that meant. "I think that makes me _your_ elder, after all." Crossing his arms, authoritatively, as he'd seen Sky do for years, he decreed, "You are now obligated to laugh at all of my jokes, including, but not limited to, those about dolphins."

"Keep it down, you two!" A husky voice growled, the thin accent thickened with sleep. Xander rolled over in half wake. "Beauty sleep is trying to happen over here."

"Sorry!" Kira hissed in his direction. Turning back to Bridge, she hesitated. "I guess I better get to bed, then."

"Yeah," He said, letting his smile fade. "We've got a big day of alien-robot-or-whatever fighting in the morning."

She stood up and silently made her way back to her own bed, thinking to herself that there was no way she was only meeting him for the first time. It could be possible that they'd met, or even been friends in a different life, or timeline, or something. Stranger things had happened, she supposed. What was this, exactly? Déjà vu? Saudade? Residual love? There was no way.


	2. Her Time

**Reefside, California (2004)**

Strumming lightly the strings on her guitar, Kira felt at peace. The early morning light filtered in her bedroom window. At last, it was almost graduation day and then she would never have to go back to that miserable high school again. Thinking back on her time at Reefside High, she decided that maybe that wasn't fair. She'd had her fun, adventure, and heartbreak, everything she was told high school was supposed to be. Dr. Oliver had told her that he still looked at high school with a smile, and Kira deeply hoped that one day she'd be able to say the same.

A car horn blared obnoxiously outside her window, and she rolled her eyes. Didn't he know that it was a Saturday morning? Didn't he care that this was the suburbs? That people were probably sleeping? Kira propped her guitar against the bed and rushed downstairs, through the kitchen, to the front door.

"Bye, Mom!" She shouted back up the stairs. "I'll be back by lunch!" There was no sound in reply. Her mother had said it was okay earlier, but just to be safe, she scrawled a note out on the telephone pad. Throwing the door open, she inhaled the early summer air. It tasted clean and smelled like adventure.

Conner's red sedan stuck out like a sore thumb, parked crookedly in her driveway. This car is a deathtrap, she told herself, pulling the handle and slipping in. She had to slam the passenger door shut for it to stick, and on the third try it finally did. Flipping the lock, just to be safe, she pulled the seatbelt across her chest and turned to Conner with a smile.

"Thanks for the ride," she said as he looked at her expectantly. He didn't say anything, didn't move. "Sorry for taking so long…" What was he waiting for? Why was he looking at her like that? "Is something… wrong, Conner?"

"Trent called." He said, folding his arms.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Conner raised his eyebrows, but when she didn't respond, he went on. "You could have told me. I wouldn't have said anything."

"Look," She sighed. "I don't want to talk about it. It was… mutual. We just weren't going to work out. Besides, I don't really see how it would affect you at all."

"Doesn't affect me? Funny," He said, faking a laugh. "That's why Trent said he called. He wanted to know if he was still invited to my graduation party, considering that you'd be there and that you probably didn't want to see him."

"What did you tell him?"

"Of course he's still invited, Kira." He couldn't look at her anymore. Turning the key in the ignition, he put the car in reverse and pulled into the street. "He's one of my best friends. _You're_ one of my best friends. When exactly were you planning on telling me that you broke up?"

"Eventually? I just didn't know you cared so much," she said, looking down at her hands.

"I know," Conner sighed. "It's none of my business. Whatever, but you know that you don't have to hide stuff from me, right? I'm just going to find out, anyway." They spent the rest of the drive in relative silence, the only noise was Conner's muffler which wasn't exactly doing it's job, and one of the mix CDs she'd forced at him after he told her his favorite band was the Black Eyed Peas.

At last, they pulled into the shopping center. Kira pulled off her seat belt and struggled to open the door.

"You gotta push, Kira," Conner coached, seeing her efforts wasted.

"I _am _pushing."

"Is it locked?"

"No!" Kira said indignantly, before looking down and seeing that it was. "Maybe…" She corrected herself before flipping the lock again and pushing one last time. The door opened with a long creak. "See, I got it."

"You always do," He rolled his eyes, and stepped out on his side. They made their way inside the mall, past mannequins and perfume displays in the department store where they entered. The whole scene put Conner on edge. He wasn't a fan of shopping malls in general, and thought that Kira shared that sentiment, but she seemed to be getting on just fine. "How long is this going to take, exactly?"

"Not too long, if we're lucky." Kira answered vaguely. "There's a vintage video game store downstairs and I know that I'll find it there."

"Right," Conner said, reminding himself aloud, as he shoved his hands in his pockets, uncomfortably. "The perfect gift. The holy grail of video games."

"Don't make fun," She shot him a warning glare. "When Ethan sees that I got him _Battle Heroes II: Space Invasion_ for graduation, he might literally worship me, and I'd hate to have to request human sacrifice, mister."

Conner faked a laugh and followed her towards the concourse. As they passed by the jewelry counter, something caught him. Literally. A balled fist tugged at the pant leg of his jeans. Startled, Conner turned and looked down to see an infant grasping for dear life at his leg. "Kira…" He looked around for the baby's parents, but didn't see anyone in the immediate area that seemed to be desperately searching for their child. "I think that _Battle Heroes_ is going to have to wait…"

"What are you talking about," She turned back to find Conner scooping the child from the floor. "Oh my god," Kira gasped.

"I know," Fear painted Conner's face. "What are we going to… I mean, what about… Where are his parents?"

"Conner." She hissed gravely. "Did you steal that baby?"

"Of course not, he just… grabbed me." Conner held the baby out to take a better look at him. He was actually pretty cute. The baby smiled back at him before laughing. He seemed happy. "Hey, big guy, there is nothing funny about this. You're in a lot of trouble when we find your mom."

"Should we, I don't know, tell someone?" Kira thought back to the safety lessons she'd been forced to sit through in elementary school. Trusted adults. She needed to find a trusted adult, pronto. "Here, follow me." She grabbed Conner's jacket sleeve and pulled as he adjusted the baby in his arms. The baby was pretty small, maybe only a few months old. Was he even old enough to be getting lost? Apparently, he was. She scanned around, looking for a security person.

"Ow, ow, ow…" Conner cringed as his hair was tugged at by the baby's unusually strong grip.

"Oh, grow up, Conner." Kira seethed. "We don't have time for you to be playing with him. This is serious. Imagine if you were his mother. She's got to be so worried…"

"I wouldn't actually call this playing," He explained pulling tiny hands from his hair. "You stop that." He scolded the baby, who giggled in reply.

Finally, Kira's eyes landed on a blue uniform. Score. She so had this under control. The officer was talking to a nervous looking woman. Surely, this was more important. Dragging Conner behind her, she marched up to the officer, putting on her bravest face, hoping everyone couldn't tell how petrified she was.

"Excuse me, sir," She cleared her throat. He turned looking stern.

"Miss, I'm sorry, but we have a missing child report here, and that takes precedence."

Holding her breath and hoping that this was some lucky coincidence, she shot Conner a hopeful glance. He was distracted by the baby, however, and didn't catch it. Sighing, she took matters in to her own hands and physically pulled him forward. "We have a _found_ child, officer."

"Is that my Bridgey?" The woman he had been talking to pushed past him, lifted the child from Conner's arms. "It is… Bridge, you had Mommy so worried!" She wrapped him in a tight embrace. "Don't do that to Mommy ever again. Ever." She began to cry with joy.

Conner nudged Kira with his elbow, satisfied with himself. She rolled her eyes.

"You kids did the right thing," The security officer said clapping a hand on Conner's shoulder. "Ma'am, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, no," She answered quickly, wiping the tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand as she strapped the baby back in his stroller. "Thank you so much." The officer tipped his hat at her, before walking away. "And thank you, kids. You have no idea, I thought he was lost forever."

"Oh, you know," Kira said awkwardly. "We should, um, go. I'm glad everything worked out for you."

"Wait!" The woman stopped them. "You two are my guardian angels. I will never forget this. Thank you."

* * *

Kira's eyelids fluttered as she was suddenly ripped from a vivid dream. Maybe it was a memory. Was it morning? Of course it was, Kira groaned. It was morning when she went to sleep. Stretching until she heard a vertebrae pop, she braced herself for the day. She sat up, hearing the friction of her yellow sleeping bag on the plastic mattress. She hated that sound. Looking around, she noticed that she was the last one up. She decided she might as well face the day and headed towards the kitchen.

"Morning, Kira," Tori smiled sweetly, as she walked in, placing the coffee pot back in its place. "You sure slept in."

"I was up late," Kira explained, pulling a mug from the cabinet, and pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Couldn't sleep, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Xander said from the kitchen table. Kira looked over to see he and Bridge sharing a rather large plate of toast. "Trust me, I know. You and Big Red over here were up way past midnight, braiding each others' hair." He punched Bridge playfully in the arm.

Bridge only took another bite of toast. "You know, I never actually learned how to braid. There was a knots tying class at the SPD academy, and they tried to teach me, but I failed miserably and ended up taking an extra special entrances class, instead."

"I bet that paid off." Tori said, half joking. Anyone who had seen Bridge in battle knew that he was especially fond of arriving with flair.

"I'd say so." Bridge nodded, between bites, completely oblivious to her joke. "But I learned so many things at the academy… I don't know if I'd say that was the most important…"

"I know what the most important thing I learned in school is," Xander replied without hesitation. "Pythagorean triangles."

"Triangles? When have you ever used triangles outside of a math class?" Kira asked genuinely concerned.

"Don't you worry about that, love," he said with a smirk. "It's all a part of Plan Xander."

"Right," Tori scoffed with a laugh. "Well, it's official. He's gone crazy for sure."

"Is that right, then?" Xander asked, defensively. "I'll have you know that Plan Xander usually works."

"Oh, I believe you," Tori said with mock sincerity. "I think I was actually there the last time Plan Xander went into action… Can someone remind me what happened? Oh, that's right… You ended up flat on your back."

"Hey, now…"

"What about you, Tori?" Kira asked, in an attempt to break the tension. "Any bits of wisdom from Ninja School?"

"Too many to count," She said smiling into her coffee cup. "But if I had to pick one… Sensei's always saying 'you must trust your inner ninja'." She impersonated her sensei perfectly, obviously having years of practice. "It's his way of saying that your instincts will get you through the toughest scrapes."

"That's good advice," Kira noted.

"I wish my Commander said cool stuff like that," Bridge said, dreamily. "Commander Cruger mostly barks, though. He's a dog, you know, not exactly the most Zen animals."

"As opposed to what?" Xander asked.

"Guinea pigs." Tori grinned smugly.


	3. History

**SPD Base, Newteche City (2025)**

Kira stared up at the high ceilings and shiny surfaces in the halls of SPD. Everything was so big and new, and she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so small and old. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind, making it hard to pay attention to Sky's obviously rehearsed speech. He led their little tour group forward past the Ranger Hall of Fame. Kira had missed his entire spiel on the topic. Just as she was thinking that she hadn't lost anything by spacing out, she caught sight of something that caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

That was her picture on the wall. More specifically, it was her incredibly embarrassing junior year school photo, where she was only half smiling and had on way too much eyeliner. Hung proudly between Ethan and Trent, both of whom had actually smiled for school photos that year, the picture reminded Kira what it meant. She was once important, once a ranger, once a hero, but from her current place in time, it had been twenty years since then. She was only one year out of high school, and already feeling nineteen years decrepit.

"Kira?" Her eyes darted back at the group, who had all moved forward save Bridge who was waiting patiently. "You okay?

"I'm fine," She lied, running to catch up.

"Quiet in the back," Sky called, as he pushed the button to open the latest in what seemed to be an endless string of doors. She watched as he did a mental head count. When he was certain that all four of his audience, Conner, Ethan, Bridge and herself, were there, he continued. "Okay, to conclude our tour, I'd like to welcome you to the SPD common room. This is where cadets and officers alike relax between training and patrols. It is usually the most popular spot in the base."

"Yeah," Ethan said sarcastically. "It's a real party in here."

"Well, there actually usually are more people in here, but it's after ten." Bridge explained. When Conner and Ethan exchanged a confused look, he went on. "Oh, I should explain. Except in case of an attack, curfew is strictly enforced. On weeknights, that means ten, no exceptions. Well… Except if… there's an attack. Anyway, technically, we're breaking curfew, so that's why it's not so busy in here. Everyone else is in their dorms."

"No 'technically' about it," Sky cut in. "We are breaking curfew. Which is why, I'll be taking you two," he gestured to Conner and Ethan. "Back to our dorm. We have sleeping bags set up and you can go home first thing in the morning."

"What about Kira?" Conner asked shooting her a nervous look. She shrugged, not wanting to admit that the same question had been on her mind since Syd and Z ducked out of Sky's tour claiming to go looking for Jack. She had wanted to go with them, but didn't want to leave Conner and Ethan to suffer alone. "Do you want me to stay with you, Kir?"

"I can stay with you until Z comes back." Bridge offered with a smile. Turning back to Conner, he added, "You're going to want to get as much sleep as possible. Time travel can be pretty draining… Or so I've heard."

"Thanks for the advice." Conner tried to sound sincere, but despite his efforts, he could hear the curtness in his voice. "Kira, can I talk to you for a minute?" Not waiting for an answer, he pulled her aside, leaving Bridge to wonder what he'd said wrong.

"Hey!" Kira exclaimed, pulling her arm back. "What's going on with you?"

"Are you going to be alright? With him, I mean?" He looked back over his shoulder to where Bridge stood. Seeing them looking at him, he innocently waved. Sky non-discretely tapped the face of his watch. Ethan looked at them impatiently.

"Psh." She scoffed, and he turned his attentions back to her. "I'll be fine. Bridge seems cool, and it'll just be until Z gets here, which should be soon, right?"

"'Cause I can stay here if you want… It's really no problem." He placed a protective hand on her shoulder.

"Conner, you're tired. You should go to bed." She pushed him back slightly with a smile. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay," He hesitated before returning back to the group.

"We'll meet back here at 7 sharp," Sky informed the room before pushing Conner and Ethan along.

"Goodnight!" She called after them as the guys headed out. "And then there were two." She sighed, making her way over to one of the long couches facing the skyline of Newteche City. "So this is where you spend most of your time?"

"When I'm not on patrol or in my dorm. Or Kat's lab. Kat's lab is probably my favorite place in the entire base. Well, that's not true… My dorm is actually my favorite place. It's not really _my_ dorm per se, because I share it with Sky, but my friend S.O.P.H.I.E, she's a cyborg, taught me how to rig up my bunk so it reclines a little, which is good because blood flow stimulates the brain. Am I babbling? I tend to babble. Well, or so I'm told. I've never actually noticed before, until now."

Bridge made an effort to return his breathing to normal. He couldn't help but freak out a little bit on the inside. Kira Ford was sitting on the couch where he had eaten breakfast that very morning. He had sat in that exact spot a thousand times while her music played into his headphones. He would have to remember everything about this conversation, every minute detail, because he knew that Syd would drill him on it later.

"This place is so cool. I wish I could stay here a while." Kira said, admiring the view. Twenty years and this would be reality. Perhaps it was reality, already. Either way, it was beautiful. She made a mental note to visit this area as soon as she got home. Home. Home in New York, where she couldn't get a job to save her life… "Couldn't you guys use a little extra help around here?"

"Personally, I would love if you guys could stay." Bridge said, finally making his way to the couch and sitting down. He made sure it was a comfortable distance. "However, unfortunately, it's impossible. You're only able to morph due to a minor glitch in the morphing grid caused by time travel. In a few days, the grid will auto correct itself rendering your dino gems useless."

"I don't need to morph to be helpful." She turned to him with hope in her eyes. This could be the next step in a wonderful adventure for her. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to stop. Returning to action as a ranger might be out of the question, but she longed to be a part of something bigger again. "I mean, I'm no Ethan, but I'm sure I could find something to do..."

"But the dino gems are the only power source powerful enough to allow time travel back. If you don't go back tomorrow, you aren't going back at all. Then the very fabric of time might…" He sighed. He didn't want to think about it. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure..." Kira answered, looking away. The silence between them thickened, like clouds before a rainstorm. She feared awkwardness, and didn't really care for silence in general, if she was being honest. Desperate for conversation, she turned back to Bridge, hoping he would have something to say. Instead, he just spun his watch around his wrist and stared ahead of him. "That is a great watch."

"This?" Her voice snapped Bridge back into reality. Examining his watch, he unclasped it and pried it off his wrist. "I've had this since forever."

"Can I see it?" Kira asked as he placed it in the palm of her hand. "I don't know much about watches," she admitted as she took a closer look. "All I know is that it's really nice. Good color, too. It suits you."

"I don't know..." He joked, forgetting momentarily his nerves. "Don't you think something in blue would bring out my eyes?" With a small laugh, she held the watch from the wristband up to his face, before wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. "No? What about red? Look again!"

"No, I think green is perfect." She reached out and handed him the watch back.

"You haven't even seen the best part..." Bridge went on, excitedly. Pointing to a small round button on the edge of the face, he began to explain. "This button here..."

"Wait!" Kira cut in, happy to have a game to play. "Let me guess! Does it... shoot a laser? No! I bet it's a walkie talkie!"

"Guess again." He prompted with a smirk.

"It… butters your toast?" She guessed, knowing it probably didn't… although, with Bridge, one could never tell. "I give up. What does it do?

"Prepare yourself." He said ominously, as he dramatically pressed the button. A small screen appeared above the watch face, glowing green and displaying the time in what reminded Kira of a 3D movie. "The hologram function."

"That's really cool." She said, fascinated. "All my watch does tell the time."

"Well, I'll have to see about fixing yours to butter toast," Bridge laughed, thinking to himself that it wasn't such a bad idea. He felt his heart drop with the reminder that her memory would be wiped tomorrow. He wanted her to remember him, because he knew that he couldn't possibly forget her. "Until then, why don't you hold on to this?" He held the watch out to her and watched as she looked on him skeptically.

"Are you sure? I mean, this is yours." She tentatively reached for it, before pulling her hand back. "You should keep it, Bridge. It's a great watch. Besides, if I take this now, you'll never get it back."

"Are you scared?" He asked genuinely. "Of going back, I mean? Of time traveling?"

"A little," She admitted. "Have you ever time traveled? What does it feel like? I can't remember what it was like coming here at all."

"It… takes a lot out of you," He said, placing the watch on the couch between them and turning to look back at the window. "I've never done it myself, but I know people who have tried. Boom, our lab assistant, he once traveled forward half an hour, and slept for half a day. Although, I guess, technically, I have time traveled, from second to second, moving forward, from one moment to the next. Do you believe in moments? Or continuous time?"

"You lost me…" Kira said, growing a little self-conscious. He was getting deep and she hoped she could stay afloat.

"I mean, do you think that time is just a series of instances, of moments, all strung together like beads on a necklace? Or is there just like one time, one big ocean?"

"Time is an ocean…" She tried the words on for size, deciding she agreed with them. "I think it must be. We only get one shot, right?"

"Maybe we get a whole bunch of shots," Bridge said slowly. "Maybe every decision affects the next, and memory is just there to remind you what not to do in the future."

"Bridge." She had to stop him. The gravity of all her thoughts caught up with her and a thousand worries poured out of her. "I'm scared of tomorrow. What if it's painful? What if the machine doesn't work? What if I get—"

"Can I tell you something?" Bridge cut in, hoping to soothe her mind. He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since he'd met her this morning and realized that she wasn't the woman he knew her as, yet. She wasn't the cool, confident, fearless twenty-eight year old from her first hit album. She wasn't even the misunderstood, poetic twenty-six year old from the first single she released. Kira Ford was sitting with him, scared and anxious and nineteen, and he wanted to make her feel better. "I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a kid. Like terrified. When it was really dark and quiet in my room at night, I used to get under the covers and light up my watch and it always made me feel better. I think you should wear it. It'll make you feel better."

"Bridge," She sighed. "That's all the more reason I can't take this. It's supposed to make _you_ feel better."

"It will make me feel better knowing it's protecting you." He said, reaching out for her hand. He simultaneously picked up the watch and clasped it around her wrist, before she could protest. Hers was so much more slender than his, and she noticed the notch in the leather didn't look as though it had ever been used before.

"Alright," She answered. "But you're getting this back before I go."

"I don't need it."

Suddenly, a loud whooshing noise signaled the door opening and both Bridge and Kira whipped their heads around to see who was coming in. Z and Syd smiled back at them.

"Sorry about the wait," Z hurriedly apologized. "Miss Princess insisted we tidy up the old homestead before coming to get you."

"You'll thank me," Syd said, rolling her eyes at Z. "Trust me, Z's pigsty is not a place you'd have wanted to sleep."

"Oh, it's fine," Kira said, standing up. "I'm just ready to turn in, if that's okay."

"Follow me," Syd said, taking her by the hand.. She stopped for a moment as she caught sight of Bridge's watch. She would recognize it anywhere. Funny… He'd never let her wear it before. Suppressing the sudden pang of jealousy with a smile and twinge of excitement at walking hand in hand with her idol, Syd lead Kira down the hall.

"I'll catch up in a minute," Z called to them. She crossed her arms and looked at Bridge expectantly.

"What?" He asked with eyes still glued to the door.

"Scale of one to ten: how much did you geek out?"

"Three." Bridge said, blinking, and getting up, himself. "She's just a regular person. Like you or me, Z."

* * *

**A.N. I'd just like to take a minute and sincerely thank you for reading and for all the support I've gotten on this story. I'm almost finished drafting and it's looking like this will be 7 chapters in total :) Thank you again!**


	4. Once a Ranger (Part 2)

**Hartford Manor, San Angeles, California (2007)**

Kira had to admit it. She was homesick. She missed New York, the music scene, and, worst of all, the gigs. Never in a million years did she ever think she would miss the gigs. They were getting better, and she'd even earned enough to cut her latest demo. If things went well, she might even have a real album in the future. However, this was the present, and usually, she was playing gigs. They were degrading, in scummy taverns or opening up for the "real" acts at underground indie concerts, but listening to the mix CD she'd made her last week of high school, she was reminded why she got into that scene in the first place.

Curled up in one of the excessively comfortable armchairs in the Hartford's rec-room, Kira pressed repeat on the CD player. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, remembering how much she loved this tune when she'd first heard it. Avril's voice tingled in Kira's ears as the song came to the bridge. _Isn't anybody trying to find me? Won't somebody come take me home…_

This was the kind of music she wanted to write, not that punky-pop crap her agent was shoving at her. She turned it up, and tried to tune out the world, but she couldn't forget about everything. How long was this ranger thing going to last this time? In high school, it seemed so much more important to her. Of course, it was important now, but she couldn't help but feel this wasn't her battle. She had a life now, but she also had a past, and that past just so happened to involve super powers. Kira knew she shouldn't complain, but there came a point when she just wanted to move on. She sometimes wondered why the dino gem had chosen her at all. Reflexively, her hand flew to her left wrist, making sure it was still there. Opening her eyes, she studied its facets and color as she had so often three years ago.

"Kira? Are you okay?" She was surprised to hear a voice over the sound of her music. Pulling the headphones from her ears, Kira sat up straight, nearly letting the player tumble to the ground. She looked up to see a rather concerned looking Andrew Hartford raising his eyebrows at her. "You look kind of… upset."

"I'm fine!" She managed to blurt out quickly, even though it wasn't exactly true. Muttering under her breath, she added, "I'd be better if I had my guitar…"

"Did you say guitar?" He asked, face lighting up. Not even bothering to wait for her answer, he began to walk out of the room. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder. "I have something I want to show you."

Reluctantly, Kira pulled herself up and followed him down a long hallway with high ceilings. Nearly reaching the end of the hall, Mr. Hartford suddenly stopped. He turned to Kira, face ominous, and began in a hushed tone. "Behind this door is the accumulation of thirty-five years of searching, trading and perfecting. It's my guilty pleasure, and I think that you'll really appreciate it." He gave the brass doorknob a turn and pushed, revealing the most spectacular room Kira had ever laid eyes on.

"Oh. My. God." She breathed shallowly, almost on the verge of hyperventilation. "I've never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. It's… It's wonderful." Mr. Hartford's guitar collection was displayed proudly on tiered platforms. Each was beautifully crafted and skillfully polished. Stepping in, she could feel herself being embraced by the spirit of each instrument as though they all were greeting her and begging her to admire them.

"Thanks, Kira," Mr. Hartford chuckled at her enthusiasm. "I've been collecting vintage guitars since… well ever. My dad used to collect them, too. Some of these are actually his. I don't really play much, anymore, though. I feel bad leaving them all cooped up in this room, alone."

Breaking her stare, she turned to him, grinning widely. "Would you mind if… If I played one a little? I mean, I totally understand if you don't want me to, these are way expensive, I just thought that maybe…"

"Why do you think I brought you here?" He said, encouragingly. Gesturing to the collection, he smiled. "Go for it. Just be careful, okay?"

Stepping reverently, Kira made her way to the one that had been calling to her since the second she stepped in: Yellow wood body, acoustic, twelve string, Gibson. Lifting it slowly from its brace, she pulled the strap over her shoulder and sat on the edge of the tier. This guitar felt so right, so comfortable. It was made for beautiful music. She plucked out a few chords to warm up, but found she didn't really need it. There was magic in these strings.

She let her fingers fall on the frets in the familiar pattern of one of her favorite songs, but it had never sounded quite so good before. She hadn't intended to sing, but she couldn't help it. "_Tears and fears and feeling proud, to say 'I love you' right out loud… Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way…"_

Bridge was passing by when he caught the melody. His inner detective had to investigate. Poking his head in, he saw Kira, lost in her own little world, guitar sitting proudly on her lap. She mesmerized him in that moment. This was how people should always be, he decided. Never before had he seen someone so in their element. When it seemed that she had played the final chord, he couldn't help but clap. Mr. Hartford and Kira jerked their heads up to look at him, standing in the doorway.

"That was really pretty," he gushed, as he stepped in. "Did you write that one?"

Mr. Hartford let out a small laugh. "I guess it's just a little before your time, Bridge."

"Seriously?" Kira asked, befuddled. "You seriously don't know who wrote that?"

"I'm guessing that means it _wasn't_ you?" Bridge said, becoming slightly puzzled himself. It sounded like the kind of music she would write.

"It's Joni Mitchell." Kira said bluntly.

"Who?"

The last time she'd met someone that didn't know who Joni Mitchell was, he was six foot two, played soccer and wore red t-shirts (hold the sleeves). While Kira had been able to quickly corrected Conner McKnight's taste in music, she couldn't really blame Bridge. He was three years old. He probably liked bands that wouldn't get together for ten or fifteen years, and Joni was already considered "oldies" music. "I'll forgive you, this time," She said with warning in her voice. "On one condition." He nodded eagerly in reply. "The second—I mean the very second—you get back home, you _have_ to listen to Joni. Promise?"

"I promise," He smiled. "Especially if that's the kind of music she writes…"

"Hey, Andrew. You ready?" Adam said, knocking on the open door. "I think I've got exactly what we need downstairs."

"Great!" Mr. Hartford exclaimed. "Excuse me, kids. Kira, feel free to use these anytime." With that, he and Adam left. Kira assumed it had something to do with whatever was in that freaky crate they picked up on their last outing. She pulled the guitar strap back over her head and placed the guitar—the beautiful, beautiful guitar—back in its stand.

"I guess I'm going to get going, then," Bridge said, trying not to sound awkward. He took one step towards the door before Kira stopped him.

"No, wait!" She called. "I want to ask you something… If you've never heard of Joni Mitchell, what other people haven't you heard of?"

"It's hard to say," He answered slowly. "Most of the people I haven't heard of… I haven't heard of. That makes it a little bit difficult to discuss."

"No. I wanted to run some names by you." She laughed. Half the time she couldn't tell if he was making fun of her or not. "Have you heard of The Smiths?" The puzzled look on his face told her that he hadn't. "No? What about Avril? Avril was my favorite in high school. She's flawless."

"Avril? As in Avril Lavigne?" He clarified hesitantly.

"So you have heard of her!"

"Yeah, I guess… But I'm not a very good gauge of music popularity. I don't really know a lot of music." She raised her eyebrows disapprovingly at him. Bridge quickly added, "You have to understand, when I was growing up my parents were kind of stern. I was on a strictly kosher music diet. I didn't even know there_ was_ good music until I entered the academy. Back in the rookie days, my best friend was Sydney Drew, and I mean she still is one of my best friends, but the point is when it comes to music, I've mostly heard Sydney Drew and the stuff she likes."

"Wait, Sydney Drew? Is that like Nancy Drew?"

"Who?" Bridge was lost. He had hoped that talking with Kira would be easier, but they just kept falling in the same pattern. What it came down to was that they were just from two different worlds. Well, the same world—Earth—but different times. Maybe time did matter, after all.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Nancy Drew. She was the world's classiest teenage detective? There were like 300 books in that series..."

"I've never heard of her, but I still beg to differ. I think _I_ was the world's classiest teenage detective." He laughed again. "But no, Syd isn't a detective. Well, I mean she is, sort of. She's SPD. Pink, as a matter of fact, but she's done lots of other stuff, too. She's an amazing singer and she has great taste in music. I just wish she'd sing her own stuff every now and again."

Kira sighed at his last statement. He didn't understand. She couldn't blame him for that, either. He'd never tried to get a recording contract, or at least she didn't think he had.

"That's the problem with being a musician," She began. "It's a constant battle. If you want to play your own sound, no one wants it. The big labels don't want what's you, they want what's now, and tomorrow, you're yesterday's news."

"But not you though, right?"

"I don't know…" She said, feeling her face fall. "I mean, music is my life… I couldn't stop playing if my life depended on it. It's just really disheartening, you know? It's hard to live in a world where everyone is telling you it's just not enough."

"Just… don't give up, okay?" He wanted to tell her that her third album was Syd's favorite. The two of them had listened to it on repeat for three months straight when they were studying for the SPD academy's qualification exams. He wanted to tell her that he knew every word to every song on that disk, but he couldn't. Bridge was forced to keep it to himself. She could never know how well she would do in the future, or how much her music had made him feel better.

"I'm not planning on it," She said with a grin. "Hey, are you hungry?"

"I could go for some—"

"Let me guess: Toast?"

"How'd you know?" He mocked surprise, and the two left for the kitchen, closing the door behind them.


	5. His Time

**Newteche City (2023)**

His hands were on the ground and his feet were propped up against the wall, but Bridge Carson's head was still in the clouds. He had been holding this handstand for close to ten minutes, examining the upside down mess that was his dorm room and trying his hardest to focus on finding the solution to his problem. The blood pooling in his ears began to tickle. With a feeling of disappointment, he dismounted.

Bridge looked around at the piles of clothes and books that littered his floor. Ever since his latest roommate had dropped out of the academy, he had really let the room go. He hadn't even felt bad about it until he heard that he'd be getting a new roomie at the end of the week, but he couldn't bring himself to tidy up. Bridge had bigger problems. He was in way over his head. He was in love.

He had met her on his first day at the academy, months ago, in the orientation meeting. The first time he saw her, the only thing he could think was that she looked familiar.

"I don't mean to bother you," he had started as dozens of new recruits filtered in. "But have we met before?"

"I don't think so," She answered, coldly, before taking her seat, but he refused to accept it. He knew that he had seen her somewhere.

"Are you sure? My name's Bridge. Bridge Carson." He slid into the seat next to her. "You're not from Newteche, are you?"

"Actually, I am, but I've spent the last two years in Paris, training." She clipped her words, obviously annoyed, but Bridge couldn't let it go. He didn't know what he was saying wrong, or if she was just in a bad mood, but he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and pressed on.

"Training for what?" Her head spun with a jerk as she looked at him for the first time since sitting down.

"Do you really not know who I am?" She asked, letting him study her face. She didn't look mad, or even shocked, really. He tried to think hard, tried to put a name with her face, but couldn't "I don't mean to sound egotistical, but, like, seriously?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out…" Bridge explained. "Are you famous or something?"

"My name is Sydney," She smiled, pushing a blond tendril behind her ear and extending a hand for him to shake. "You can call me Syd, though."

"Nice to meet you, Syd."

It wasn't too long after this encounter that Bridge began to diagnose himself with the symptoms of puppy love. As it turned out, Syd was an up and coming singer, an established fencing champion, and she could do all this while working as a fashion model. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be around her. She didn't make him feel annoying or strange. In fact, Bridge never felt more comfortable than when he was with Syd. He knew there was a difference between a crush and real love, and sitting in his cluttered room, he was trying hard to figure out what those differences were.

At that moment a series of short knocks berated his door, before a mechanical whoosh, sliding them open. Syd bounced in, grinning widely, a thick, red, spiral notebook clutched to her chest.

"Bridge! Pop quiz!" She prompted. Those words had become something of a greeting for the two of them as the qualification exams approached. Usually, it was followed with a question of statistics or protocol, so Bridge prepared himself. "Who is your best friend in the entire world? Spoiler alert: it's me."

That wasn't exactly what he had expected, but he laughed along anyway. "While I admit there's truth to that, can I ask why you're bringing it up?"

"Guess who has Sky Tate's notes for the exam?" She said slamming the notebook she carried onto his desk, unceremoniously. "Spoiler alert: it's me again!"

"Sky Tate?" Bridge asked, getting to his feet to take a look at the notebook. He was sure he'd heard that name before. Somewhere, recently, in fact. The cafeteria? Yes, first year recruits, girls, gossiping about test scores… What was it they'd said? "Isn't he the guy that scored a perfect on the entrance exam?"

"The very same."

"How'd you get his notes?"

"Let's just say a lady has her ways."

"Oh, right." Bridge didn't want to think about what that meant. He faked a smile and turned his attention to the notes on his desk because easier than imagining the sort of things she had done to get them. He did wonder, however, when Syd had possibly managed to talk to Cadet Tate, as they were always together in their free time. Well, almost always. "So these are his?"

"Yeah." Syd said, flipping open the red notebook. She looked up at him after a moment. "Do you want to study them with me?"

"Sure..." He said, looking around the room, before spotting the second desk chair hiding under his stack of books to read. "Just give me a second." He cleared the desk of in one foul swoop, putting miscellaneous books and papers into unorganized piles on his bed, and pulling the chair up beside hers. As they sat, Syd opened the book and Bridge had to take note of the meticulous penmanship. "Wow. His handwriting is so neat."

"I know, isn't it great? I've never met a guy with such nice handwriting."

Bridge thought -on his own chicken-scratch and wondered when that sort of thing had started mattering.

"You know," She went on, "Once you get past the whole intimidation thing, Sky's actually a really relatable guy. I think you'd like him."

"I'm sure I would." Bridge said, mostly to agree with her. From overheard gossip, Bridge had gotten the idea that this Sky character was a bit intense, and usually, he wasn't a big fan of intense personalities. After a moments thought, he decided that was unfair. He didn't actually know the guy, so, for all he knew, he and Sky might have gotten along famously.

"No, really," she gushed, with a flip of her hair. Bridge didn't mean to notice, but he was sure she had recently changed shampoo. "He's such a... good guy. Did you know that his father was SPD? A-Squad."

"Impressive."

"Why are you so quiet?"

"I'm not being quiet." He hadn't thought he was, anyway. Sometimes, Syd did this thing where she read into his actions much further than he would himself, and it always made him really self-conscious.

"Bridge, is there something wrong?"

"No," He insisted with a nervous laugh. "Let's just study, okay? I'll tell you what: if the quiet is really bothering you that much, we can listen to some music."

"Alright," She sighed. "But we're not listening to your weird nose-flute music."

"I thought you said that was cool!" Bridge protested, having taken her opinion seriously.

"Oh, Bridgey," Syd winced, sympathetically. "You didn't really believe that, did you? I mean… I was just trying to be nice, but I thought you knew how horrible that was." She walked over to his stereo and flipped through his small stack of CDs. "Where's the one I lent you last week?"

"You mean Kira what's-her-name?" He hadn't actually listened to it, although he had promised to. Bridge had felt bad about it until about a minute ago when she had bashed the Bulgarian National Nose-Flute Choir. Those were the sorts of things that made Bridge question his feelings to begin with. Sometimes Syd said things she didn't mean or forgot that his feelings were sensitive, too.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. Her name is Kira Ford, and she's totally going to change your life. Well, her music is, but you know what I mean."

With a wave of his hand he pointed back to the dresser. "It's under the tactical strategy textbook."

"Found it!" She proclaimed, popping it into the player. Acoustic guitar music wafted through Bridge's room. It was slow at first, with soft lyrics that floated seamlessly over the introduction before picking up in pace and becoming more of a dance number. He had to admit it, this music _was_ better than the nose-flute.

"Isn't this great?"Syd asked, as she started to dance around, her hair bouncing with each carefree step.

"It's okay," He muttered.

"Oh, come on, Bridgey," She said taking his hands and pulling him up to dance with her. He pulled back. "Are you mad at me about what I said about your music?" She stopped for his answer.

"It's not that," He answered, even though it was, a little bit. It wasn't entirely, though, mostly it was because he didn't want her to see him dance. The last time Bridge had danced in front of anyone, it was at his cousin's Bat Mitzvah, when he was fifteen. There was an incident with the punch bowl that he'd rather not relive.

"Then dance with me!" She urged. The pleading look in her bright blues left him with no choice. Tentatively, he began to nod his head to the beat, causing Syd to laugh, but not in a mean way. She sounded like she was having fun, and he couldn't help but smile. Kira Ford's voice smoothed over the rough edges of his dancing and soon, they were bouncing around, jumping and laughing.

Those were the moments when Bridge Carson's problem was finally solved. He realized that unless he loved Syd, really loved her, he would never let her see him dance, but here he was, and the craziest part was that he was having fun.

"Ahem," A low voice clear itself from his doorway. Bridge turned to find a muscular guy in academy uniform nearly hitting his head on the door frame due to his unusual height. He'd never seen this person before. Syd hadn't heard the voice and stopped dancing only when she saw Bridge had. Her eyes light up in recognition.

"Sky!" She smiled, turning the music down. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Sydney." He didn't smile. This was Sky Tate? Bridge decided that _intense_ wasn't the right word to describe him. Cold was more like it. Stoic. "I'm looking for someone named Bridge Carson. Is that you?" He looked at Bridge, who nodded.

"Uh, yeah," Bridge forced another smile and extended his hand for Sky to shake. Sky looked at it skeptically, raising his eyebrows, before finally accepting it, a little too forcefully. Syd looked between the two, trying to gauge their reactions to each other. If first impressions meant anything, Bridge could safely say they would never be friends. "What can I do you for?"

"Starting tomorrow, I'm your new roommate." Sky said, surveying Bridge's room, with a small scoff.

"Oh, I know, it looks bad," Bridge said sheepishly, looking over his shoulder. "But I swear it'll be totally ship-shape before you move in."

"Right," Sky nodded, obviously not believing him. "Well, I just wanted to stop by and let you know. I'll see you around. Sydney, it was nice seeing you."

"Nice seeing you, too!" She called after him as he disappeared down the hall. Turning back to Bridge, she shook her head in disbelief. "Can you believe him?"

"No. I can't."

"Isn't he great?"

What person was she talking about? The guy Bridge had just met was cold, and rude, and honestly, a little bit scary. Was that the kind of person Syd liked? If that was the case, why was she wasting her time with a goof like him?

That was the day Bridge decided that he definitely loved Syd, but it was also the day that he decided that things would never work out romantically between them. He was okay with resigning himself to being her friend, but he knew that those feelings would never really go away and now all he had to cling to was the Kira Ford song that had played for the happiest three and a half minutes of his life.


End file.
